


Hit me with your best shot

by rydia



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Claudeleth Week, F/M, Mentioned Background Relationships, Mentioned Golden Deer Students (Fire Emblem), Paintball, step-siblings Dimitri and Edelgard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-20
Updated: 2020-07-20
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:48:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25399438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rydia/pseuds/rydia
Summary: It's the Battle at Gronder, except it's a paintball match and everyone takes it far too seriously – including Claude, who goes above and beyond to recruit Byleth Eisner to the Golden Deer team using tactics he later comes to regret.Written for Claudeleth week day two: modern/school
Relationships: My Unit | Byleth/Claude von Riegan
Comments: 11
Kudos: 108
Collections: Claudeleth Week 2020





	Hit me with your best shot

**Author's Note:**

> Everything I know about paintball has been learned from two places:
> 
> 1) the paintball scene in 10 Things I Hate About You  
> 2) The Community paintball episodes
> 
> Which means I probably know nothing about paintball.
> 
> Also, small content warning for some misogynist language from Sylvain, who's at his self destructive best in this fic.

Byleth likes her father’s office at Garreg Mach University. She often takes lunch with him here, finding it a quiet refuge in her busy day. Today, she’s especially glad for it, as her thoughts keep mulling over a conversation she’d had the day before. 

Jeralt pushes a plate of chocolate treats across his desk to her, carelessly shoving papers out of the way. Byleth gives him a small smile of thanks, taking one to dunk in her tea. 

She’s just about to tell him what’s on her mind, when a sudden commotion outside catches the attention of them both. There’s the sound of running feet – two pairs of them. A crash and a shouted apology, and then the footsteps grow closer and Byleth hears huffing breath and a hissed “ _get out of my way_ ”.

“Professor!”

Byleth recognises that voice. Dimitri. Frowning, she just standing up when the slightly ajar door of her father’s office bursts open to reveal not only Dimitri, but Edelgard with him. Both of them are panting, chests heaving.

Edelgard shoves herself in front of Dimitri. 

“Professor! I have a request–“

“No!” Dimitri steps in after her. “Prof–“

The words die in his throat as he sees the figure of Jeralt Eisner towering over his desk, glowering at both of them. 

“Explain,” he snaps, folding his arms. 

Edelgard, to her credit, doesn’t falter under her father’s heavy glare. She straightens up, appearing far taller than she is. At her back, Dimitri lingers, looking more awkward. “Professor Eisner, please accept my apologies. But this is a matter of urgency. I must ask the Professor–“

With a sigh, Byleth waves a hand. “Just call me Byleth.” She can’t believe that ridiculous nickname stuck. It seems especially ridiculous for them to be calling her it when her father – an actual professor – is standing in the same room.

Edelgard flushes lightly, but nods. “Byleth. I am here to request–“

“Prof– no, Byleth,” Dimitri interrupts Edelgard, stepping in front of her and blocking her almost entirely from view. Edelgard makes a noise of annoyance, but Dimitri carries on without pausing, rushing his words in a way she’s never heard him do before. “Will you join the Blue Lions for the Battle at Gronder? We have a free spot and would greatly appreciate your assistance.”

There’s a thud from behind him and Dimitri winces. Edelgard steps around him, her fists balled up. “I was asking my question first, Dimitri! That was rude.” She turns her eyes on Byleth, biting back the irritation in her voice and become a touch pleading. “Professor, please join the Black Eagles! We have the strongest team this year, and–“

Dimitri scoffs. “Please. We have _Felix_.”

Edelgard turns on him. “Oh, is this the same Felix who’s been banned from two different tournaments – for bringing a _sword_ to a paintball match? _Twice_?” 

“He came straight from kendo practice. And Felix knows how to win.” Dimitri’s gaze on Edelgard is cold. 

“Are you telling me he uses _real swords_ in kendo practice? He is _unhinged_.”

“Strong words coming from a woman who spends most of her time around a man that looks like a haunted pencil.” 

“I heard Sylvain call Hubert that last week. It was rude then, and it’s rude now. At least to try think up your own insults, Dimitri.”

Byleth exchanges a look with her father, who sighs deeply.

It’s enough to halt the argument, with both Edelgard and Dimitri appearing to remember where they are. They both have the decency to look a little chagrined. 

Jeralt stares at them both for a long minute. “Aren’t you two brother and sister?” he finally asks.

They both reply in unison, with equal amounts of distaste. “ _Step_ brother and sister.”

Nodding slowly, like that answer explains something for him, Jeralt slowly sits back down. Meanwhile, Byleth dunks another chocolate in her tea and pops it her mouth, before grabbing a napkin and wiping her fingers.

“Well, kid,” Jeralt begins, now sounding more affable as he lifts his own tea cup. “Who’s it going to be? The Black Eagles or the Blue Lions?”

“Oh.” Byleth turns back towards Edelgard and Dimitri. “I’m sorry, but I’ve already been asked by someone else and agreed to play on their team.” 

Their faces morph into equal outrage. 

She hears her father stifle a chuckle. 

And even though they both have to know who that other person is – there’s only one other team playing at Gronder, after all – it doesn’t stop them both from asking, in low dangerous voices.

“ _Who_?”

*

“Claude.” Hilda greets him archly as she drops gracefully into a seat opposite him.

He glances up from his plate of sad cafeteria vegetables and chicken, shooting her a smile. “Hilda.” The smile widens when he notices her companion, also joining them at the table. “And Marianne. How were your morning classes?”

Marianne opens her mouth to reply, but Hilda doesn’t let her get in a word in. “Save the small talk, Claude. Why is Edelgard staring at you?”

Now he grins fully, straightening up in his seat and making a show of running his hand through his hair. “I have such a beautiful visage. I’m sure she can’t help but stare.”

Hilda rolls her eyes, unimpressed, before glancing behind him, presumably to where Edelgard is sitting. “Get over yourself, you’re not her type. And this isn’t a _wow you’re sexy_ look, this is a look that says _murder murder, I will murder you, Claude von Riegan, and no one will find the body or suspect me and you will be a footnote in history and I will rule everything_.”

Marianne chuckles, a little nervously. “That’s very, ah, explicit.”

Hilda’s returning smile is devious. “Isn’t it? You know she’s capable of it too. She’s small but I’ve seen those arms. I bet she could bench press Dimitri. Claude wouldn’t have a hope against her.”

“Ouch,” he says, twirling his fork in his fingers. Hilda probably just wants Edelgard to bench press _her_. “You’re breaking my heart, Hilda dearest.” 

“Doubt it,” she replies in a sing song voice.

“But Claude,” Marianne interjects, her own eyes fixed behind him with a crease of concern between her brows. “Edelgard does look really angry. What did you do?”

“To Edelgard? I didn’t do anything.” Both women sitting opposite him do not look convinced. “It’s true!” 

Hilda arches an eyebrow, waiting, but Claude is distracted by a shadow falling over him. Suddenly, he feels a chill. 

“Dimitri!” Hilda puts on her sweetest voice, and beams up at him. “How are you? Thank you _so much_ again for your help the other day.”

“It was nothing,” Dimitri rumbles in a low, impatient voice, rounding the table so Claude can see him. Claude immediately notes the glare on Dimitri’s face, and smiles back at him.

“Hello, your Princeliness,” Claude starts, and then becomes unsettled when he realises the shadow behind him hasn’t moved. He tilts his head back to find Dedue staring back at him. He swears that guy gets taller and broader every time he sees him. “…And Dedue.”

“Hello, Claude, Marianne, Hilda.” Dedue nods at each of them in turn, polite as ever. 

“Do not waste your breath on this schemer, Dedue,” Dimitri snarls. “Do not think I don’t know about your underhanded methods. Will you truly go to any lengths to win?”

 _Whoa_. In truth, Claude’s a little taken aback. And annoyed. He’d only done what Dimitri and Edelgard had also been planning to do – he’d just done it before them. As he’s about to reply, Hilda interjects, still saccharine sweet.

“Really Dimitri, I can’t thank you enough. And Marianne was so grateful too – I was her ride home so if you hadn’t help me tidy up, she would have been waiting.” Hilda places a hand on Marianne’s arm, who blushes prettily as she looks up at Dimitri. 

“Oh.” The anger seems to drain from Dimitri as he looks at Marianne, his bright blue eyes going wide and soft. “Then I am truly glad to have assisted you. I would not wish Marianne to be inconvenienced.” 

“You’re so sweet!” Hilda thrills, and Claude resists the urge to roll his eyes. She’s laying it on thick. Not that Dimitri notices. He and Marianne are staring at each other like two yearning lovers in a medieval romance novel. 

At least Hilda had distracted him. 

“Boar!” A new voice snaps at them, and then Felix appears on the opposite side of the table, Sylvain not far behind him. 

Claude wonders idly if the Blue Lions are here to maim him and put him out of commission for the battle. He could see Felix attempting it.

But Felix doesn’t even spare a glance for any of them, eyes darting quickly to Dimitri and then away again.

“We have a strategy meeting,” Felix continues, all sharp and prickly, while Sylvain blows a kiss at Hilda, who makes a show of batting it away and gagging. In response, Sylvain places his hands over his heart and pouts. 

Felix ignores all of this, although one of his eyes twitches. “Stop making cow eyes at Marianne, _boar_. It’s disgusting. Let’s go.” 

“Felix.” Dedue’s voice has a note of warning in it, but Felix still ignores him, and simply turns and leaves, closely followed by Sylvain, who winks at Hilda. She gives him the finger in return. 

“Ah, I apologise for him,” Dimitri mutters, rubbing the back of his neck. “For both of them, actually.” 

“That’s alright, Dimitri. You’re not responsible for your friend’s actions.” Marianne smiles at him, and Dimitri all but melts.

Claude meets Hilda’s eyes. Marianne and Dimitri have been doing this for three years now, and neither of them have made a move yet. It is _painful_. 

“I should… go,” Dimitri mutters, glancing over to where Felix and Sylvain are now sitting with the other Blue Lions. “But…” He straightens up, as if remembering why he’s here, but the anger he’d shown a little while ago seems to have been snuffed out by Marianne’s smile. “I won’t forget Claude, what you’ve done.” 

He leaves, as does Dedue, and the three of them sit in silence for a beat as Hilda glances from Marianne to Claude, as if deciding who to question first. 

But obviously Claude is the bigger mystery of the moment because she arches a perfectly shaped brow at him. “What did you _do_?”

“As I said, I did nothing _to_ them, and I take no responsibility for their terrible attitudes. But if I were to guess…” Claude pauses to draw out the moment for added suspense, leaning forward slowly. Hilda and Marianne both do the same, interest clear. He lowers his voice. “They may be a little bit upset because I managed to fill the last spot on the Golden Deer for the battle at Gronder with someone they _may_ have wanted for their own teams.”

Marianne and Hilda exchange a glance, eyes widening comically. Claude enjoys the reaction.

“You _didn’t_?!” Hilda’s dramatic gasp is particularly entertaining.

“Oh, I did.” And he’s gleeful about it. His grin widens. “I got Teach.” 

*

“So, von Riegan?”

Byleth turns to her father. He’s driving them home, both of them finished classes for the day. Jeralt has his eyes on the road, his voice deceptively casual. 

“What about him?” She’s been wondering when he’d ask.

“You really going to play with him at Gronder?”

“Yes.”

When she says nothing more, Jeralt glances at her in frustration. He’s never quite sure whether having such a taciturn child is a good or a bad thing.

“When’d he ask you?”

“Last night.” When she sees his brows furrow, she keeps talking, guessing his next question. “We were texting.”

“Texting.”

“Yes, dad. Texting.” Her tone turns teasing, for her. “With a phone. A smart phone. Maybe you can join us in this century and get one.” 

“My phone makes phone calls and that’s all I need,” he says gruffly. “I just didn’t realise you were friends with him.”

Byleth thinks friends might be pushing it. She’s not really sure. “I tutored him last year, so he has my number. Sometimes we still text. And he knew I played paintball before and he’s the leader of the Golden Deer team, so…” She trails off with a shrug, like the conclusion is obvious. 

In truth, she’s downplaying it a little bit. But Claude is guarded and sometimes she doesn’t know where she stands with him. Maybe they’re friends? But it’s hard to tell, and Claude seems to have a lot of friends. Or, at least, is often around people. Maybe to him, Byleth isn’t a friend, just an acquaintance. Someone who used to tutor him that he still talks to sometimes. 

And Byleth can’t ignore the feeling that maybe Claude is just being nice to her because he wants her on his team. 

She hates that she has that feeling, and hates that it hurts her more than it should because she knows her own feelings for Claude have long since gone past friendship.

So she shoves it away, locks it up, and tries not to think about it. 

“Huh.” Jeralt drives in silence for a few moments. “He’s a bit… flashy, isn’t he?”

Byleth raises her eyebrows. “Flashy?”

“Yeah. You know, someone who’s always putting on a show.” 

“Hm. That’s one way of putting it.” That’s why Byleth isn’t sure whether Claude has a lot of _friends_. Perhaps he’s just as guarded with everyone else as he is with her. She turns her head to look out the window, watching the streets of Garreg Mach go by.

“Are you looking forward to playing?”

She nods absently. “Yes, it’s been a while.”

“Yeah, you’ve been pretty busy, kid. It’ll be good for you to have fun.”

With a small laugh, she turns back to him. “As far as I can tell, fun has nothing to do with this.”

Jeralt laughs at that himself. “You’re right. They take this paintball game very seriously. The Golden Deer haven’t won in almost a decade. That von Riegan kid will be taking it seriously. Though… the same can be said for those other two.” He shakes his head. “I don’t want to even think about what their home life is like. Anyway, like you say, it’s been a while since you played. Think you’ll be making anyone cry this time?”

“Sylvain Gautier, hopefully,” Byleth replies blandly, although she very much means what she’s saying.

Jeralt laughs out loud at that, but Byleth thinks he wouldn’t be laughing if he knew the whole story. All he knows is that she had a drink with Sylvain in her first week of classes, the previous year. Sylvain, a postgrad student like her, had also done his undergrad at Garreg Mach. So while he had a reputation as a playboy and a heartbreaker, Byleth hadn’t been aware of it. All Jeralt knows is that she turned Sylvain down. She’ll never tell him what Sylvain said after she did that. 

She’s certain Sylvain has never told anyone either. They haven’t spoken since then, and that was well over a year ago now. But she knows that the likes of Ingrid or Dimitri would have apologised for their friend if they’d known. It’s just as well Dimitri didn’t ask her to join the Blue Lions first, because she’d have turned him down. The last thing she wants is to play on a team with someone like Sylvain.

And Byleth wants no apology from Dimitri or Ingrid, but, even now, she wants one from Sylvain. She doubts she’ll ever get it. 

But she’s looking forward to kicking his ass at paintball, at least. 

*

Claude surveys his Golden Deer with a critical eye. They’re looking sharp and ready to practice. His biggest concern is integrating Byleth with the team. They only have a few weeks before the battle, and she needs to be familiar with their tactics, and some level of trust has to be gained between them all. 

She stands a little apart from the rest of them as she checks her gun, which makes Claude frown. But he takes the moment to watch her, wondering – not for the first time – why she’s agreed to do this. He’d asked her because he knows – like all of them know – that she’d played a lot of paintball in the past and won a bunch of tournaments. And there is that one video that went viral of her taking down a whole team by herself. Claude has watched the video countless times, admiring the way she moved and the precision of her shots. She’d been silent and deadly, quicker than anyone else with reflexes like he’s never seen. He’s wanted her for Gronder since he’d found out she was at Garreg Mach, but it hadn’t been until he’d gotten the go-ahead for them to add an extra team member that he was able to ask. 

And _that_ had been an exercise in patience. Seteth had been slow to consider it, although he’d listened to Claude’s presentation patiently. But it’s paid off well. He has Byleth on the Golden Deer, and now Dimitri and Edelgard are left scrambling to fill their places. 

Though if the rumours are true, then the Black Eagles have already gotten Jeritiza von Hyrm who, in truth, Claude would rather not face across the field. But he’s sure they’ll be able to handle him. The Blue Lions have apparently chosen Flayn as their final member, which… he doesn’t quite understand but perhaps she’s as terrifying as Lysithea can be out in the field.

Anyway, right now, he needs to focus on Byleth. 

Hardly something to complain about.

“Hey, Teach,” he calls out cheerfully as he makes his way over to her. “Happy with everything?”

She nods, and glances around the field. “It’s been a while since I’ve played.” 

“I hope you still have it,” Leonie says from behind Claude, who has to force himself not to grit his teeth. He loves Leonie, truly. And she’s great at paintball. But her weird obsession – that she keeps insisting ‘ _is not a crush!_ ’ whenever they tease her– with Byleth’s father brings out the worst in her when Byleth is around. 

But Byleth doesn’t seem bothered. She simply nods at Leonie and replies placidly, “So do I.”

Thankfully, Raphael, that sweet big boy, throws an arm around Leonie and laughs. “We’re glad to have you with us, Professor! Thanks again for your help, before, by the way.”

Byleth smiles at that, small but genuine, and Claude can’t look away at it. She’s lovely. He knows she helped Raphael a lot – he struggles with academics – and took a much reduced tutoring rate because she also knew that money was tight for him since the unexpected death of his parents.

 _She’s a good person_ , he thinks. _Better than me._

That thought pricks at him, but he’s distracted by the other Golden Deer surrounding them, and decides to get to business. 

“Alright! As you all know, the Battle at Gronder is coming up. I don’t need to tell you all what a big deal that is. And this time, they’ve increased the amount of players to nine per team. That’s why we have Teach joining us. We’re going to take today to get her up to speed on the way we work, and let her get back into the swing of things. After that, we’ll begin to focus on our tactics for taking down the Black Eagles and the Blue Lions.” 

As he speaks, Claude is pleased to notice all of them listening intently. It’s been too long since the Golden Deer won this match – in fact, the last time was when Hilda’s older brother attended Garreg Mach, eight years ago. Even Lorenz – who Claude is aware feels he should have been voted leader of the group – is desperate to win and have the glory that comes with it. So even though they butt heads, Claude knows Lorenz has his back. In paintball, anyway. There’s a certain level of trust that comes from playing together. He supposes that’s why he’s become friends with them all – even Lorenz – when he’d really never expected that to happen.

Splitting them into two teams, the Golden Deer get to work.

It doesn’t take long for Byleth to dispel any ideas anyone might have of her being rusty. She’s a perfect shot, and as soon as she steps onto the field, she moves in that silent and graceful way Claude had found so mesmerising in that video. 

He has to let it not distract him here, although his job is to learn how Byleth plays, so really, he _has_ to look at her. It’s certainly no hardship, at least.

With him, he takes Leonie and Marianne. He needs to have Leonie get over her one-sided rivalry with Byleth, and Marianne is a good calming influence. 

Lorenz probably thinks he’s going to head up the other team, but Claude knows it’ll be Hilda that gives the orders.

Despite having one fewer in their team, it’s Claude’s group that wins the first round. 

He asks Byleth’s opinion afterwards, and she looks thoughtful for a moment, watching on as the others take a water break. It’s proving to be an unseasonably warm day.

“Leonie and Ignatz are really good. They take archery with you?”

Claude nods and Byleth hums, still looking thoughtful. “Marianne is a good sniper. Better to hold her back – she gets too flustered being on the front line. That’s where you want Hilda and Raphael, but both of them could do with more spatial awareness. Lorenz is quick, and flashy. Good person to use as a distraction. I need to know more about the Black Eagles and the Blue Lions and what we’re up against, but your Golden Deer are really good, Claude.”

He tries not to puff up in pride at her praise, he really does. But if there’s one thing Claude has learned about Byleth is that she doesn’t exaggerate. 

Still, he’s glad she’s not looking at him. She doesn’t need to know the effect her words have on him.

“Again?” she asks, and Claude grins.

“Again.”

In the end, the practice goes better than Claude could have expected. The Deer are a generally welcoming bunch, even accounting for Leonie’s attitude at times. But even Leonie calms down as they play together, frowning at Byleth’s advice but accepting it nonetheless. And Byleth has helpful comments for everyone, even Claude himself, and he’s delighted that all his schemes have worked and she’s playing with them. While they haven’t had a chance to talk tactics, he knows she’s got a mind for it. 

“We usually go for lunch afterwards, if you’d like to join us, Professor?” 

Byleth’s eyebrows raise at Hilda’s question, like she’s surprised to be included. But she agrees to go with them, much to Claude’s delight. He spends most of lunch watching her, where she has quiet conversations with one person at a time, rather than engaging the whole group. He doesn’t think she’s shy – she has no trouble asserting herself either when tutoring or when she’d been playing paintball. And whenever they meet up for tea, she’s chatty enough, although sometimes muted. It makes getting reactions out of her even more satisfying.

“Claaaaude.” Hilda drawls out his name, drawing his attention to her. 

“Hilda.”

“You do stare at Byleth a lot. Did you have an ulterior motive for asking her to join us?”

Claude’s smile becomes slightly strained. “My only motive is winning. You know this.”

“If you say so.” She pauses, looking at Byleth as she speaks to Ignatz. “I like her,” Hilda declares. 

His reply is droll. “I’m sure she’ll be pleased to have your approval.”

Hilda ignores him. “It makes me wish I’d spoken to her before, but I never needed tutoring, so I suppose we never crossed paths.” She gives Claude a pointed look. “I was surprised _you_ did.”

“Not everyone is as clever as you,” Claude says mildly, feeling that uncomfortable prickle of guilt again, and making an effort to keep his expression even.

Hilda pulls a face at him and turns away to speak to Lorenz, and Claude, for once, remains quiet, watching Byleth.

*

“The Almyran Pine Tree is really nice. It was a good recommendation.” Byleth smiles at Claude over the rim of her cup, and he can’t help but smile back. He can feel the smile stretch across his face, wider than he usually smiles, because he’s so stupidly pleased that she likes the tea – like her liking Almyran tea _means_ something. And when he smiles at her – truly smiles – her eyes seem to get this spark in them that makes him want to lean in and kiss her.

There’s just something about Byleth that makes Claude want to drop all his carefully cultivated walls.

But then he remembers that he can’t do that, so he drops his gaze and leans away from her, suddenly aware of how close he’d gotten.

When he looks at her again, the smile is gone, and she’s regarding her teacup with that blank look that she’d often worn when they’d first met.

And he has to repress a sigh, because he knows he’s running hot and cold on her.

So he forces a smile back to his face. “I have good taste, Teach, I told you.”

Her eyes meet his again and she nods, but doesn’t smile. And she doesn’t hold his gaze, instead glancing around the coffeeshop they’re sitting in instead.

Not for the first time, Claude wonders if he should tell her. Clear his conscience and maybe be able to do something about the way he feels before he turns into Dimitri about Marianne.

Of course, that would probably mean hat Byleth would leave the team.

“Oh,” says Byleth, lifting her hand in a wave. “There’s Edelgard.”

Is that relief he’s hearing in her voice? Is she happy to see Edelgard so she has an excuse not to talk to him? 

No, that’s silly, she’d accepted his invitation for tea happily. 

Claude shoves his uncertainty aside to plaster a fake smile on his face, sitting up straight as Edelgard approaches. At her side, unsurprisingly, is Hubert. And while Edelgard only has eyes for Byleth, Hubert is watching Claude in a decidedly creepy way.

Polite greetings are made, with Edelgard cooly acknowledging Claude before she warms up again as she chats to Byleth. 

With irritation, Claude can’t help but wonder if he’s not the only one with a crush on Byleth. 

His eyes dart between the two women watching to see how Byleth reacts to her.

“Von Riegan.” How, Claude wonders, does Hubert always sound like a snake?

He keeps his eyes on Byleth as he responds with dripping insincerity. “Von Vestra. An absolute delight to see you.”

“Hm.” Hubert steps forward, closer to the table. Edelgard briefly glances at him before returning her attention to Byleth, while Claude focuses his attention completely on Hubert, bothered by how close he is, and his looming attitude.

“It is nice that you and Miss Eisner are friends,” Hubert says silkily. 

Claude refrains from rolling his eyes at the use of _Miss Eisner_. Honestly. Instead, he tilts his head at Hubert, giving his most charming smile. “Yes. It is _nice_ , isn’t it.”

“I was surprised,” Hubert continues on like Claude hasn’t spoken, “to hear you needed tutoring in history.”

With a lazy shrug, Claude takes a long drink from his tea. “We all need help sometimes. Teach was a lifesaver.”

The look Hubert gives him tells Claude that he isn’t buying it. “From what I heard, you quite often got top grades in your assessments. I do hope it wasn’t anything tragic that necessitated your sudden and unexpected need for academic help, leapfrogging over other struggling students to gain the attentions of the most highly rated tutor at the university.”

Claude’s smile goes cold. “Not at all. But I do appreciate the concern, Hubert. As I said, Teach really helped me out.”

“And it seems she still is helping you. Clever of you to get her for Gronder.”

“Nothing clever about it. We’re friends.”

Edelgard laughs at something Byleth says, breaking the intense staring match going on between Claude and Hubert. They both glance over, and Claude is chagrined to see Byleth smiling softly at Edelgard, who straightens up and takes a step back, glancing at Claude, her expression cooling.

“I should let you get back your conversation,” she says in such a way that it lets Claude know that Edelgard is very aware he and Byleth had been sitting in silence when they arrived. 

But Byleth nods. “It was nice to see you, Edelgard.”

“Perhaps we could meet up for tea sometime ourselves?” 

When Byleth smiles and replies that she’d like that, something ugly twists in Claude’s gut that he recognises as jealousy. He’s not sure he’s ever experienced it before. He’s never had someone he’s liked enough to feel jealous about. 

_Fuck_.

He laughs lightly, forcing himself to sound casual. “I hope you’re not planning on stealing away my best paintball player, Edelgard.”

Her smile goes flat. “Of course not, I would never resort to such underhanded methods.” _Unlike you_ , he thinks is the unspoken part of that sentence. She glances back at Byleth. “I was disappointed, of course, that you won’t be playing with us, but I assure you that I will give it my all against you on the day of the battle.”

“I’d expect no less,” Byleth responds. 

“Very well. I will, ah, speak to you soon.” With that, Edelgard leaves, closely followed by Hubert, who gives Claude a parting death glare before going to join Edelgard in the queue for drinks.

They both sit in a moment of silence before Byleth turns back to Claude. “You and Hubert looked intense back there.”

“Oh, it was nothing,” Claude lies. “He’d just do anything for Edelgard and probably took it worse than she did that I got you for the Golden Deer.”

Byleth hums, picking up her slice of cake that had until now been neglected. “They’ll be fine. I’ve gone against Jeritza before. He’s very good.”

“You have?” he asks, intrigued.

“Yes. He thinks we have some kind of rivalry? It’s strange. He’s a bit intense. I can tell you about the way he plays now, if you like.”

“No, no,” Claude says hurriedly, despite wanting to know. “This isn’t a tactics meeting, I told you that. It can wait until tomorrow.”

“Alright,” she says slowly after swallowing a mouthful of cake. Claude waits, suspecting there’s something on her mind. He’s proven correct when, after a moment, Byleth blurts out, “Are we friends, Claude?”

“Of course we are,” he replies, feeling a little stung that she would ask, despite having absolutely no right to feel that way.

“Oh. Good.” She smiles briefly, a look of relief on her face. “It’s hard to tell and even though sometimes people don’t like it, I’ve found it easier to just ask.” 

Claude stares at her, wondering how often she’d had to ask. Guilt pricks at him again. “Do you usually find it hard to tell?”

“Sometimes.” She hesitates. “It’s easier with some people. Like Mercedes – do you know her, from the Blue Lions?” At Claude’s nod, Byleth continues. “Or Hilda. Even though we only spoke last week for the first time, she’s been so warm and open.”

“Ah.” He understands. And Claude realises that Byleth is more perceptive than he’d thought, in her own way. It makes sense, really – she wouldn’t be that good at paintball and the other sports and athletics she does if she wasn’t.

She frowns. “I’m not trying to insult you–“

Claude shakes his head. “Don’t worry. I get it, Teach. It’s just… I find it hard to let people in, I guess.” A truer statement he has never said, but it’s not helping his guilt to think she’s been questioning their friendship.

Because she’s right to question it. 

She cocks her head in a cute way. “I’m sorry to hear that. For what it’s worth, I’m glad we’re friends. You’re worth getting to know.” 

Claude can feel his ears getting hot. Does she know what she does to him when she says things like that, so _genuinely_?

She doesn’t, he knows. Byleth is endearingly straightforward in her own way, even if she’s not the most talkative person at times. 

“Uh, thanks, Teach,” he replies, rubbing the back of his neck, feeling a little flustered. “You too.” Eager to change the subject, he goes on, “Can I ask – would you have preferred playing for the Black Eagles?”

She shrugs. “I wouldn’t have minded. If Edelgard had asked me before you did, I would have said yes.” 

“Ah, a true mercenary,” he teases lightly, not letting her know how much the thought of that bothers him.

But her eyes settle on him in a way that makes Claude think she can see right into him. “I’m happy to be playing with the Golden Deer, Claude. I’m glad you asked me. And everyone has been so nice,” she says, almost wistfully, making Claude’s heart twist. 

But he ignores that. “What about the Blue Lions?” 

Her mouth goes flat. “I would have said no.”

 _That_ truly surprises Claude – so much that he can’t even feel pleased that she would have turned Dimitri down. “Why? I thought you got along with his Princeliness?”

“I do,” she replies, a flicker of distress crossing her face. “I like Dimitri. It’s not him.”

Claude scrutinises her, still surprised by all this. Byleth usually seems so unflappable. “Do you want to talk about it?” he asks, desperately curious, but not wanting to push her.

Byleth’s eyes snap to his. “I haven’t told anyone this… will you keep it to yourself?”

“Of course.” Without thinking, Claude reaches across the table to briefly squeeze her hands. “I promise, Byleth.”

She smiles briefly at him. “Thank you. It’s nothing that bad, really, but Sylvain said some things to me last year. I just wouldn’t want to play on the same team as him.”

Anger courses through Claude. Of course it was Sylvain – who was incredibly charming and likeable and your best friend right up until the moment he wasn’t, and then he was a nightmare. He never understood how Ingrid and Dimitri stayed friends with him. Claude wasn’t _entirely_ sure if Hilda had hooked up with him at one point, but she certainly had nothing good to say about him – like so many of his former lovers. She’d gone positively feral when he’d attempted to make moves on Marianne. He wonders if Dimitri knows about _that_. 

He watches Byleth carefully, who is once again scanning the coffeeshop, a hint of anxiety about her. 

“What did he say?” Claude asks in a low voice. 

Byleth sighs and leans back in her chair, returning her attention to Claude. “After our first seminar last year, he asked me out for a drink. I thought he might be a friend, and I find it hard to make friends, so I said yes. I realised about two drinks in that he was hitting on me and I told him I wasn’t interested in him like that.” She pauses and worries her lip with her teeth.

Claude frowns. “He didn’t take it well?” He’s seen Sylvain get turned down as often as he succeeds. He doesn’t usually respond badly.

“Maybe I was too blunt? He got annoyed and told me I only got a place here because of my father. That I had it easy.”

Claude’s eyebrows raise. “That’s rich, coming from a Gautier,” he scoffs. 

“I didn’t even know who his family was, at the time,” Byleth says distantly. “He seemed so angry, and I still don’t understand why…” She trails off, eyes far away. After a moment she meets Claude’s eyes again. “Anyway, he stood up to leave and said I was so cold that I’d probably be frigid in bed, so he didn’t know why he even bothered to talk to me at all.”

A quiet rage rolls through Claude as his hands clench into fists. “Sylvain Gautier is an _idiot_ ,” he snarls, not bothering to conceal his anger.

This time, it’s Byleth who reaches across the table to place her hands on his. “I know,” she assures him, and Claude feels bad that somehow she’s the one comforting him. “I was just so taken aback. It’s not the first time someone has said something like that to me, but not since I was a teenager. I didn’t expect it on my first week as a postgraduate student.” She gives him a wan smile. “I thought my days of dealing with people like that were over.”

He forces himself to relax, unclenching his hands and – on impulse – tangles his fingers with hers. She doesn’t pull away, only holds tighter, and Claude’s heart begins to beat faster. “I’m sorry,” he tells her sincerely, “that you had to go through that – with anyone, not just Sylvain.”

Byleth raises a shoulder, almost dismissively. “I know I’m not warm–“

“You _are_.” There’s a fierceness in Claude’s voice that surprises even himself, but it’s true. Byleth might not be bubbly like Hilda or boisterous like Raphael, but she’s no less warm in her own way. She likes to help people, and she’s good and kind and clever and _oh fuck_ , he really likes her and he’s going to have to tell her. 

Byleth blinks at him, a blush spreading across her cheeks. And then she smiles, the warmest he’s ever seen from her. “Thank you, Claude. You’re a good friend.”

 _Oh fuck_ , he thinks again, because he really needs to tell her that he isn’t. Or wasn’t, but is now. That he will be. But he decides to wait, because the last thing he wants is to wipe that beautiful smile from Byleth’s face by telling her the only reason he pretended to need tutoring in the first place – the only reason he attempted to be friends with her at all – was to get her on the Golden Deer team. 

“So,” she continues, oblivious to his inner turmoil, “I don’t want to be on the same team as Sylvain, because I want to kick his ass.”

His lips quirk upwards at that. “He’s never apologised?” 

She shakes her head, and Claude is unsurprised. Sylvain’s upset plenty of people over the years and never apologised, as far as he knows. He sighs. “Sounds like Sylvain.”

Byleth shrugs again. They’re still holding hands, but she doesn’t seem inclined to let go, so neither does Claude. “I’m looking forward to the battle. It’s really nice playing with a close team like this.”

They continue talking and despite how much he’s enjoying their time together, Claude’s heart sinks. He needs to tell Byleth the truth, but that could mean her leaving the team she’s enjoying spending so much time with – and ruining the burgeoning friendships she’s making. Can he forget it? Push away his guilt and be friends – or more – with her and never tell her that when he first met her he only wanted to use her? 

No, he thinks dully as they talk, Byleth the most animated he’s ever seen her. He can’t.

She deserves better. 

*

As the weeks slip by, Claude goes back and forth on wanting to tell Byleth. They don’t have time for another coffee date – not that it was a _date_ , Claude reminds himself – but he sees her regularly at practice, and at other group get togethers where they go over tactics and the other team’s strengths and weaknesses.

Sometimes Claude tells himself that it doesn’t matter if he’d pursued a friendship with Byleth for false reasons, because he’s long since become genuine about it.

But deep down he knows that’s not true. It matters because she’s become important to him, and important to the rest of the Golden Deer. While Byleth has never said it in so many words, she’s spend much of her life feeling like an outsider, just like him. She deserves to know and to make her own decision.

And, still, selfishly, he doesn’t tell her. Because do the rest of the Golden Deer deserve to lose their best chance of winning at Gronder? This could upset the whole balance of the team, even if Byleth stays with them. 

In the end, Claude says nothing, but promises himself that he’ll tell her after Gronder. 

*

The day of the Battle is dry but overcast. Claude rolls his eye over his fellow Golden Deer as they strap on their protective gear and load up with ammo. He’s pleased to see Leonie talking quietly to Byleth, who has a small smile on her face. The rest of the Deer seem to be in good spirits. Their practice sessions have gone well, with everyone working together better than they ever have before. 

Claude knows it’s down to Byleth. She’s what’s brought them all into harmony. As he watches her, he sees her go from person to person, talking quietly with them and leaving all of them with a smile on their faces.

She approaches him last, and Claude busies himself with checking his gun that he’s already checked several times. He hopes Byleth hasn’t noticed his staring.

“They’re ready,” she says with satisfaction. 

Nodding, he lets himself look at her again. “And you?”

There’s a gleam in her eyes, and a predatory smile stretches across her face that makes something hot curl in the pit of Claude’s stomach. “I am,” she replies, hoisting up her gun. “And you?” she repeats his own question back at him.

He returns her grin with one of his own, all teeth and promise. Her face pinks slightly when Claude steps closer, and she lets him adjust a twisted strap on her chest protector, raising her head to watch his face. “Born ready, Teach,” he says in a low voice.

Byleth swallows. “Why do you still call me that?”

“Because… because you’re still teaching me, even if you don’t realise it.”

“Am I?” Byleth sounds curious.

“Yeah.” He gathers his courage. “Say, I know we’e all going out for dinner after this anyway, but would you mind if I pulled you away from the others for a bit? I have something I want to tell you.”

She blushes even further at that. He can see it, standing so close to her, spreading across her cheeks, and down her neck, and to the tips of her ears. More than anything, Claude wants to run his fingers across her cheeks, curious to see how soft her skin is. He forces himself to drop his hands and step back.

Byleth nods. “Of course.” Claude can see she’s curious, but he’s relieved when she doesn’t press him, especially when the whistle blows to announce the match is starting in five minutes. 

*

The Golden Deer are based to the north of Gronder Field. The Black Eagles in the south west, with the Blue Lions east of them. The field itself is large, with a steep hill in the centre with a faux medieval tower on top for anyone to claim. There are plenty of trees and bushes to use as cover, too, aside from the strategically placed bales of hay and other objects that can be used as cover. Several parts of the field have fake smoke, making it easy to hide, but giving poor visibility. It’s a challenging place to play in, and Claude has made sure his players know it all well. 

The Golden Deer split up as soon as the match starts. Their plan is to avoid the central hill – it nearly always becomes a hot spot – and carefully progress down each side of it. 

Claude is betting that Dimitri will make a beeline for Edelgard, and he’s happy to let them both be distracted by each other while the Golden Deer work on taking out their teams. He, Byleth, Lysithea and Leonie make their way down the western side of the hill, while the rest take the other side. 

At first, it’s quiet. 

And then they hear the _pop, pop_ in the distance. 

The battle has begun.

*

It gets chaotic as they get closer to the Black Eagles starting area, and just west of the tower, Byleth gets separated from the others in the thick of trees and smoke. She keeps her eyes peeled as she carefully makes her way back, still able to hear the guns firing in the distance. Her group had encountered Felix and Ingrid, and had been taking potshots at each other when Ferdinand had appeared with Petra and Dorothea. 

When Byleth had attempted to circle around, a third Blue Lion had taken aim at her, forcing her backwards until she’d had to make a run into the foggy area. 

She knows she’s still being followed, and she greatly dislikes the feeling of being herded. But she goes with it for the moment, knowing she’ll get her chance if she keeps her patience. 

She disappears into the thickest part of the fog, crouching low and searching for cover, finding it in the form of one of those crude stacks of hay bales. 

Then, she waits. 

“Aw, Byleth, why are you running away?”

She grits her teeth. Of course it’s Sylvain. Remaining silent, she carefully eases herself to glance around the edge of the hay, peeking out into the mist in the direction of his voice. She pulls her head back in just as a spray of blue bullets flies her way, splattering the hay and the ground around it before it moves across the area.

“Thought it might be nice to chat, for old times sake.”

If he thinks he’s going to goad her into doing something stupid, he’s very much underestimated her. She takes a deep breath, centring herself.

Sylvain shoots off another stream of bullets, and Byleth takes another quick glance beyond her cover. She can hear his footsteps.

On silent feet she stands and leaps over the hay, firing directly at the sound. The satisfying sound of the paint hitting a person lets her know she got her target, and Byleth smiles grimly to herself.

“Ah, dammit,” she hears him say, just as he steps out of the fog. Byleth is satisfied to see him covered in yellow paint from his ankles to his chest.

“You’re really kind of a bitch aren’t you?” he snaps, and raises his gun at her.

Startled, Byleth turns on her heel and just about manages to miss Sylvain’s shot, ducking back behind her cover.

“What are you doing?” she asks, angry. “You’re _out_.”

He scoffs. “Just making sure you are, too. If you’re getting so cosy with Claude, you’re probably not playing fair, either.” 

“What is your problem with me?” 

He laughs mirthlessly, and she hears him come closer. Byleth debates her options. He’s already out, so he’s not going to care about about being hit again. Instead, she carefully puts down her gun and crouches, waiting.

She sees the tip of his gun appear around the hay, and she rolls forward, grabbing the gun and yanking him forward, making him tumble over her and hit the ground. He fires his gun, but Byleth keeps it pointed away from her.

Once he stops, she stands up and grabs her own gun again, slinging it across her shoulder. Sylvain sits up, glaring balefully at her.

“Was that necessary?”

He stands slowly, and Byleth backs away. She needs to get back to her team, but she’s unwilling to turn her back on Sylvain in case he fires on her again.

When she hears the sound of another gun before fire, Byleth startles backwards.

But it’s been aimed at Sylvain, and bright blue paint hits his visor, making him swear.

Byleth turns to see Felix watching them. He’s covered in yellow paint.

“What the hell are you doing?” Felix asks Sylvain, furious. “You’ll get the whole team disqualified.” 

Sylvain pulls off his visor and shoots an insincere grin at his friend. “Aw, Felix, I was just–“

“You were just being a dick. Stop taking your shit out on Byleth. Now let’s go.”

With a last look at Byleth, Sylvain sighs, and trudges over to his friend. 

“I’d get it if you said something about this,” Felix says to her, eyes still on Sylvain.

She shrugs. “He didn’t hit me.” 

Sylvain looks at her incredulously. “You’d say nothing?”

“The rest of your team don’t deserve it.”

That seem to make Sylvain feel a little chagrined at least, and as he turns his back on her to leave, Byleth raises her weapon and fires on him again, covering his entire back in yellow.

He turns back to her, glaring. “Seriously?”

“You deserved it,” Felix snaps. “Let’s go.”

*

Jeritza ambushes Byleth as she’s making her way to where she hopes to find some members of her team. He’s as quick as she is, but Byleth has remained on high alert after her encounter with Sylvain, and manages to dodge the attack. 

“Finally,” he rumbles. “A true challenge.”

He also manages to avoid her counter shots and they fall into a stalemate, taking pot shots at each other until Byleth breaks cover, firing her gun at him and dashing closer, throwing herself behind a tree.

Red paint splatters the ground behind her, but doesn’t hit her. 

“Do not hide from me,” Jeritza intones, and Byleth frowns. First Sylvain, now this nonsense? 

More red paint splatters the ground behind her, and when Jeritza talks again, she realises he’s getting closer. “I didn’t seek you out to have you hide from me. I’ve desired this for–“

The sound of another paintball gun firing drowns out his words, and Byleth flattens herself to the tree, glancing over in the direction of the noise. 

It’s Lysithea, who’s looking at Jeritiza in a decidedly unimpressed way. 

“Oh,” Jeritza murmurs, and Byleth steps around the tree, gun still raised, to see him looking down at his paint covered chest.

“Come on, Byleth,” Lysithea says urgently, “we don’t have time for this. He’s out, and Claude needs our help.” 

With a nod and smile Byleth jogs towards Lyisthea, glancing at Jeritiza as she goes. He’s staring wide-eyed at Lysithea, who’s already turned away.

*

“Dimitri and Edelgard are having a weird duel. He’s the only Blue Lion left. Hubert and Ferdinand are still around, and there’s me, you and Claude.” Lysithea tells Byleth all this quickly as they carefully pick their way forward through a thicket of trees. “We saw Sylvain go after you but we were pinned down by the others. I’m glad you got him, he’s such an ass,” she finishes.

Her assessment makes Byleth grin. “He is, isn’t he?”

Lysithea opens her mouth to reply, but Byleth suddenly shushes her, hearing voices ahead. Lysithea nods and remains silent, and they both creep silently forward to the edge of the trees.

“–how you are, von Riegan.”

 _Hubert_? Lysithea mouths as Byleth, who nods, trying to pinpoint the location of his voice.

“How _I_ am, Hubert? Should you really be throwing stones from your glass house?”

Byleth’s heart starts thudding faster at the sound of Claude’s voice, who sounds to be a little further away from them than Hubert. 

“Save your honeyed words, I know they are poison just as much as I know that you lied to Byleth.”

Lysithea turns to Byleth with wide eyes, and Byleth grabs her arm. She doesn’t know if it’s to stop Lyisthea from giving away their location, or because she needs to hold onto something. Her heart hammers harder in her chest.

She finds she wants to hear what Hubert’s saying.

When Claude doesn’t reply, Hubert goes on. “You didn’t need tutoring, did you?”

“Hubert, really, what does it matter?” Claude answers easily and Byleth wishes she could see his face to determine his feelings. It would let her know if what Hubert is saying is true or not.

It’s something she’s wondered herself.

Hubert goes on, an edge to his voice. “Do you think she’d still smile at you if she knew?”

“Byleth?” Lysithea whispers, moving closer to her, a look of concern on her face.

Byleth shakes her head. “I’m fine,” she whispers back, just as quietly. She blinks, swallowing down her feelings and pulling herself together. “I’ll go around. We’ll flush him out. Be careful in case any of the others are around.”

Lysithea nods, checking her ammo with a serious expression. “We got this,” she says, still quiet, but determined.

Silently, Byleth moves a little deeper back into the trees and begins moving along the treelike, trying to determine where Hubert is.

“I understand you find it difficult to make friends, von Riegan, but manipulating people into it doesn’t really make it friendship now, does it?”

“Hubert, could you just shoot me and get this over with? It would be less painful.” Claude replies sardonically. 

Byleth edges forward, glancing down to see Lysithea doing the same. At her nod, they both dash forward. Lysithea provides covering fire as Byleth searches for Hubert. He moves before she can get to him, dashing out of his hiding spot and firing blindly at her. She dodges easily, and throws herself behind a stack of tyres. 

“I’m sorry you had to hear this,” Hubert calls out. “I hope I didn’t strike a nerve.”

Byleth huffs, watching Lysithea circle the area on the other side of Hubert, making her way towards where she thinks Claude might be. 

“You didn’t,” she says blandly. A lie, but she’s not going to let Hubert know he’s getting to her. 

She’s tired of all this nonsense – this paintball match has proved to be one of the least fun she’s ever played in. Keeping low to the ground she darts out of her cover, closer to Hubert, gun aimed in his direction. She hears a scuffle of movement and as soon as he rises both she and Lysithea fire, and keeps firing as they both move towards him. 

Hubert holds his hands up, a distinct look of annoyance behind his visor. 

He’s covered in yellow paint by the time they stops shooting. 

“That was a little overkill, don’t you think?” he asks silkily, pressing a gloved hand to his paint covered vest, watching as it comes away with dripping yellow paint. “And you’re saying I didn’t touch a nerve?”

She ignores him, turning away towards where Claude is rising from his own cover.

Hubert keeps a glare on them all. “Edelgard will prevail,” are his final words before he turns and stalks away. If Byleth hadn’t been so preoccupied with thoughts of Claude, she might have laughed.

Byleth watches Claude approach her warily, Lysithea hanging back.

“Teach–“

“Don’t call me that,” she can’t help but snap, making Claude flinch. 

“I’m sorry,” he says, and those two words confirm what Byleth has feared, that he isn’t really her friend. Something hollows out inside her and she turns away, biting down hard on her lip. Of course someone like Claude would never want to be her friend for real. 

But he didn’t have to lie to her.

“I don’t mean to be rude, but can’t you do this later?” Lysithea calls out. “There should only be Edelgard and Dimitri left. We’re so close to winning.”

Byleth has never cared less about winning a match.

Claude turns to Lysithea, about to reply, when a shrill whistle sounds, making them all startle.

Seteth’s voice sounds over the loudspeakers. “This year’s Battle at Gronder is over. The winners are the Golden Deer! Everyone please gather at the staging area.”

“ _What_?” Claude and Lysithea let out identical exclamations, and Byleth frowns.

“How did we win?” Lysithea asks, baffled, pulling off her visor. The other two follow suit, and Byleth tucks her messy hair behind her ears. 

Claude frowns. “You go on ahead, Lysithea. I want to talk to Byleth first.”

Lysithea steps up to him and says, “If what Hubert said is true, you better apologise, you ass.” With that she gives Byleth a final glance of concern before shouldering her gun and disappearing back into the trees. 

“By–“ Claude starts, but she shakes her head and interrupts him.

“I should have guessed. You picked up everything so quickly in our lessons. It was because you already knew it, wasn’t it?”

He takes a deep breath and nods, remaining silent, obviously realising she has more to say. 

She makes an effort to keep her voice steady. “Was it really all just to get me on the Golden Deer?”

“At first,” is his quiet response.

Sharply, she asks, “Was winning worth it?”

He shakes his head. “Not if I lose you, no. This is what I wanted to talk to you about later.” 

“After the match.” She can’t help the tinge of bitterness in her voice.

“Yeah, I know how that looks. I didn’t know what to do, not now that all the Golden Deer are involved. They all really like you, you know. They had no idea, so please don’t be angry with them.”

She shakes her head. “Why couldn’t you just have _asked_ me?”

His smile is rueful. “Because I’ve always been an outsider. I don’t trust easily. I know that doesn’t make what I did okay.” He steps closer. “I really am sorry. I’ve regretted it for a long time.” 

Byleth searches his face, seeing nothing but genuine remorse there. “I want to believe you,” she murmurs. More hesitantly, she goes on, voice lowering, “You said we were friends.”

“We are,” he replies, distressed. “Please, Byleth, we _are_. You’ve become important to me and I was…” He takes a deep breath. “I was planning on asking you out, later. After I told you. If you could forgive me.”

Her mouth drops open in surprise, and she flushes, knowing how much she wanted that not so long ago. “I–“

Seteth’s voice crackles over the loudspeaker. “Can _all_ players please return to the staging area _immediately_.”

Claude sighs. “Guess we should head back.”

But neither of them move. 

Byleth is conflicted. She believes Claude is remorseful and is telling the truth, but there’s a part of her that can’t help but wonder if it’s just because she _wants_ to believe that.

She thinks of all the time they’ve spent together – not just these last few weeks, but even before that. How sometimes he’d be hesitant, like he was holding himself back, or how his smiles would ring hollow. 

Wetness hits her face, and she glances up to that it’s begun to rain.

And then sometimes he’d smile so warmly, and his eyes would soften. He hadn’t been faking that. 

“Byleth?” Claude prompts gently.

She takes a deep breath and steps closer to him, heart hammering in her chest. It had felt right to join the Golden Deer, and become friends with everyone. Even her father has commented that she seems happier recently. It feels right to forgive Claude. He’d made a mistake… but, yes, she can forgive him.

“Byleth?” He asks again, now sounding uncertain.

“I knocked Sylvain on his ass and covered him in paint.”

Claude’s eyebrows raise. “Good. He deserved it – and more.”

“I’m half tempted to do the same to do.” She takes another step closer, and sees the bob of his throat as he swallows heavily.

“Would that make you feel better?”

“I’m not sure,” she murmurs, but she knows, really. It wouldn’t make her feel better. 

“I’d let you.” His voice lowers as she gets closer.

“There’s no challenge in that,” she decides as she comes to a stop in front of him. Claude waits, like a man waiting for judgement. Byleth pulls off her gloves and then reaches up to hold his voice, slightly amused at the way his eyes widen and cheeks flush.

“Uh–“

“Is this alright?”

He nods, and Byleth does something she’s wanted to do since the first time she’d met him. She slides her hands up to his hair, brushing the soft strands back, sighing. The rain falls heavier and she knows it won’t be long until they’re both soaked through. Stretching up on her toes, she places a gentle kiss at the side of Claude’s mouth.

“I forgive you, but if you ever do something like that to me again, you’ll regret it.” 

Byleth steps back and sees that his eyes are dark, his face still flushed, and he’s staring at her with a hungry expression. 

“Believe me,” he says in a low voice, “I’ve learned my lesson.” 

The rain falls harder and tension mounts between them until Byleth can’t take it anymore and she surges forward again. Claude meets her halfway, capturing her lips with his, his own hands finding their way to her now wet hair as she clings to his arms. 

The loudspeaker crackles again, and they break apart in surprise. “Claude von Riegan and Byleth Eisner – return to the staging area, _immediately_. “

*

There’s a strange air to the small award ceremony that takes place at the staging area. A bedraggled Claude accepts the trophy from Seteth with an equally disheveled looking Byleth by his side, both of them shooting furtive glances and smiles at each other. The rest of the Golden Deer, as a group, are torn between being pleased that they won and bothered by _how_ they won it.

Because while Byleth and Lysithea had been taking care of Hubert, Dimitri and Edelgard had been circling each other, facing off with other with an itemised list of disagreements – more or less – spanning back to their childhood. 

In the end they had shot each other at the same time, knocking each other out of the game and leaving the Golden Deer the winners.

“Do you think,” Dimitri asks in a low voice as Hilda hands her phone to Seteth to take photos of the group, “that we took this too seriously?”

Standing by his side is Edelgard. Her lips thin at his question, and for a moment Dimitri thinks she’s going to disagree with him, as she so often does. But she relents, saying, “Perhaps.” A pause. “Are you coming to dinner on Sunday?”

A peace offering. “Ah, I… cannot.” Dimitri feels his face warm and Edelgard turns to him with a raised eyebrow. Knowing she’s going to ask, he mumbles, “I have a date.”

“ _Ah_.” A quick smile flickers across Edelgard’s face before it disappears. She turns away to look at the Golden Deer again. “I’m glad you finally asked out Marianne, it was becoming completely unbearable.”

Dimitri rubs the back of his neck. “She asked out me, actually,” he admits.

Edelgard nods in approval at that. “I hope it goes well,” she says magnanimously. 

Dimitri murmurs his thanks and another silence falls between them 

It’s Edelgard who speaks again first. “If it all goes well, perhaps we will see her at a family dinner soon. I have been considering bringing my partner for some time. Now that this is out of the way, we can spend more time together.”

“I was not aware that you were seeing anyone. Is it… Hubert?”

“I’ve been bringing Hubert to dinner for years, Dimitri,” she responds patiently. “He’s my best friend.”

Dimitri turns to her, curious. “Who is it?”

Her eyes flicker back to the Golden Deer, and Dimitri follows her gaze.

“Claude?”

Edelgard actually laughs out loud at that. “Have you truly not noticed how he and Byleth look at each other?”

He hasn’t, actually. “The Professor was my next guess,” he admits. 

“You’re terrible at this.”

Dimitri frowns, eyes rolling over the Golden Deer again, warmth filling him as he watches Marianne smile at Hilda.

 _Ah_.

“Hilda.”

“Good guess,” is Edelgard’s somewhat sarcastic response. 

“She is very… lively,” Dimitri says.

A smile softens Edelgard’s face. “You could say that.”

Without another word she strides forward towards the Golden Deer, making a beeline for Hilda. Dimitri follows close on her heels, and he and Marianne smile at each other in silence, while Hilda and Edelgard talk, both of them unable to take their eyes off the other. Eventually, all three teams start to mingle together, and Lysithea is the only one who notices that Claude and Byleth sneak away together, holding hands. 

**Author's Note:**

> MVP: Lysithea probably
> 
> Jeritza: I have found a new rival  
> Lysithea: who tf is this clown
> 
> [twitter](http://www.twitter.com/rydiaofmyst)


End file.
